


teach a man to dance

by AGracefulShadow



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Dancing, Erik Is Oblivious, Fluff, Impromptu Lessons, M/M, Useless Gay, au in which erik and raoul dont hate each other on sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGracefulShadow/pseuds/AGracefulShadow
Summary: Raoul asks Erik to help him practice his dancing. Erik, confused, obliges.





	teach a man to dance

**Author's Note:**

> this is hella bad and hella gay

Everytime Raoul approaches him for advice, Erik has to laugh. Perhaps the boy believes that seniority grants wisdom. If only it did; then, perhaps Erik would not be so inept at navigating the world of women. But it doesn't, and he is, and he outwardly laughs every time Raoul asks him  _ anything _ . 

Another thing that baffles him is Raoul's insistence on returning to him. After all, they should, theoretically, be  _ rivals _ ; both are vying for the same woman's attention. They're not, oddly enough. A sort of uneasy truce flows between them, laced with  _ something _ peculiar that neither of them dwell on for very long.

There's something else, too, about the whole scenario that is keeping his hot temper and deep rooted jealousy in check. Whether that's Christine's seeming aloofness to Raoul (although Raoul swears its to Erik) or even the boy's seeming comfort around him, he cannot say. He supposes it's a good thing. God Himself only knows what he would have done, were that not the case. 

He should stop thinking of Raoul as "the boy"; the younger man is older than Christine by about a year, and he refers to Christine with the more mature moniker. 

Raoul is sitting across from him right now, reading a newspaper, and humming, off-key, a very old song. For some unknown reason, the vicomte has taken to spending time in Erik's presence; not that the older man  _ minds _ , strangely enough. The company of another person who genuinely wants to be there, who hasn't been forced by Erik to join him, is nice sometimes. 

That is an odd sentiment for Erik to have. He hadn't expected to enjoy the vicomte's company to the extent he has. He's beyond tolerable. 

Erik stares at Raoul for a moment before returning to the work he's doing. He has better things to think about than the boy. He dips his pen in the ink bottle and scratches a few notes onto the paper. 

It would be pure luck for him to get more than a few minutes in near silence. 

Raoul coughs. "Ah, Erik," he says.

Erik lifts his gaze from the paper with a sigh. "What is it, monsieur?" he asks, resting his pen in the ink bottle. 

"There's a ball soon." Shuffle of papers. "I plan on asking Christine to come."

Erik raises his eyebrows. "And you wish to gloat about being closer to her than I?" 

"No!" Raoul shakes his head. "I, ah…" And he hesitates, drops his eyes to the paper in his hands. "I have an…  _ odd _ request."

Erik stares quizzically back at him. This is new. "Which is…?" he asks, although he's not quite certain he wants to know. 

Raoul scratches the back of his neck. "I wish to…  _ practice _ my dancing," he says. "I haven't done so in quite a while."

"And you wish to practice with  _ me _ ," Erik replies. Strange. Erik wouldn't consider himself the best dancer in the world, a fact Raoul has no way of attesting to. 

Raoul shrugs. "Not particularly, but there's no one else to practice with." 

Erik stares at him levelly, studying the expression on the boy's face to no avail. That is a lie; there's many girls who would  _ kill _ for a chance to practice dancing with the Vicomte de Chagny. "...I don't see why not," he says after a pause. "If you are practicing to dance with Christine, then you should be leading, no?" Setting his papers aside, he rises to his feet, holds his hand out for Raoul to take it. 

Raoul moves with erratic motions, stiff and unnatural. He may not have been expecting Erik to agree. Erik rolls his eyes; he motions for Raoul to approach faster, saying, "What, you can't expect to dance like  _ that _ ." 

Raoul shakes his head, but can't seem to speak -- Erik barely contains a laugh at how flustered the boy is. He marvels at the effect he's had on the boy and wonders what it means. 

After far too long, Raoul is standing in front of Erik, his hands awkwardly splayed and hovering in the general spot where they are supposed to be. Erik tries not roll his eyes again. 

"Monsieur," he says, "do you have  _ any  _ idea what you're doing?" 

Raoul turns an interesting shade of red. "Christine isn't six inches taller than I am," he mutters. 

"That should not matter." Erik guides Raoul's hand to the middle of his back and reaches for his other hand.

Pause. Raoul is frozen where he stands. Erik sighs. "The beat is one-two-three for this one. It's-like-this," and he starts to speak in cadence. Despite this, Raoul still does not move. Erik raises an eyebrow. "Well? Lead."

Finally, the boy takes a few shaky steps, desperately trying to keep time with what Erik is humming. It isn't even that difficult of a song. 

Soon enough, it becomes apparent that Raoul has  _ no _ clue what he's doing. Erik would laugh were that fact not oddly depressing. He drops Raoul's hand and steps back. "Answer me honestly this time," he says. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Raoul looks down, but Erik catches a glimpse of his face. The boy's a shade of red to rival the costume stuffed in the back of Erik's closet. "It's been years since I've  _ actually _ danced," he mumbles to the floor. "I  _ have _ been busy with the navy…"

"You are the most useless aristocrat I've ever known." Erik shakes his head slowly. 

"Philippe has  _ always _ been better at this. I've never really  _ had _ to practice." Raoul snaps his head up to look at Erik. "I'm not  _ useless _ ." He turns away. 

Erik hesitates, trying to figure out why Raoul seems hurt. "I did not say I would not  _ help _ you," he says. "I only mean to suggest that you have a lot of work to do."

"Don't need to tell me twice." 

Erik holds his hand out to Raoul. "Perhaps I could demonstrate how to lead." He motions for the boy to approach him again. 

Raoul hesitates, seems to reconsider, then reassumes his position. "That could work," he says slowly. 

Erik takes Raoul's hand, presses his other hand against the boy's back. There is almost no space between them now; neither of them are trying to meet each other's eyes. Erik starts to hum the same song that he was earlier, begins to lead.

Raoul is a much better dancer this time, far more comfortable being lead than he is leading. Erik is also more at ease with the role reversal, and surprisingly, he finds himself enjoying this more than he expected. He finishes the dance when he finishes the song and not a moment before. 

Raoul pulls away quickly. Erik wonders why that stings the way it does, chooses not to dwell on that. "Was that a suitable demonstration?" he asks. 

Raoul looks up, grins, shrugs. "I… think I understand, but just in case," and he holds his hands out again, "could we practice again? I want to make  _ sure _ I know what I'm doing."

Erik pauses for a moment. Something about the vicomte's expression, the way he's saying his words, puzzles him. Eventually, he just shrugs. "I don't see why not," he says. "We want to make sure Christine is suitably impressed, don't we?"

"Yes!" Raoul says quickly. He nods his head equally as fast. "This is for Christine, yes." 

Erik nods as well, and the two slip back into position. 

If it is even possible, Raoul is even closer than he was before. 

Erik decides he's imagining things. 


End file.
